AN: originally on livejournal for the prompt Leverage/NCIS:LA, G/Eliot.
Your gut tells you that this is a decent man, despite his line of work.
Your rational mind tries to remind you that you shouldn't get attached to this man, that it's dangerous to feel something when you're just supposed to be using him for information. When he's just supposed to be about the job.
Your survival instincts should be kicking in right about now. Telling your body to back off, that he's a lowlife who might just be distracting you so he can shoot or stab or whatever else he wants to do to you.
But some other instincts are in play. Muddling things up, usurping control as blood rushes away from the brain. And then it's a successful coup; these other instincts are in power now. And they're telling you that this man absolutely does want to do something to you, but he sure as hell isn't keeping his intentions secret.
And then it's his mouth. Lip and tongue and teeth.
His body. His words whispered in your ear, full lips uttering gorgeously depraved things to you, letting the hot air from his throat take over your thoughts completely.
And the next thing you know, you're waking up naked next to him. Wearing nothing but a thin cover of satin sheet and his arm draped over your chest as he sleeps.
It's always difficult pretending to be a bad guy.
But the real challenge starts when you start to realize that there are some big parts of your fake-identity that you're not pretending for at all.